


Pride and Tea

by MechanicZero



Series: A Day in the Life of MI6 [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, SPECTRE (2015), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: BAMF!Q, Backstory, Holmes Brothers, M/M, Multi, Pre-James Bond/Q, Q is a Holmes, Q!Holmes, Quentin Holmes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicZero/pseuds/MechanicZero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q has always disliked the spotlight, especially with two overachieving geniuses as brothers. However, he refuses to be ignored, especially when his brothers' partners are involved. So he starts hacking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride and Tea

Growing up a Holmes was both enlightening, and an endless infinity of frustration. Mycroft was a stuffy ass, even as a ten year old, and Sherlock began wreaking havoc before grade school. Honestly, Quentin shouldn’t be surprised that no one knew there was a third Holmes brother. Being quiet as a kid and rarely showing up to school in favor of doing all the work online made it easy to hide in his brothers’ shadow. It makes things a lot easier, now that he is Quartermaster of MI6, having no known familial connections to compromise him.

That doesn’t mean he appreciates his brothers’ partners not knowing he exists. He is a Holmes, not a ghost. And the Holmes’ ego refuses to allow his existence to be glossed over.

So he hacks both John Watson’s personal laptop and Gregory Lestrade’s Scotland Yard desktop. It’s comically easy—the doctor’s laptop is outdated by years and the Yard’s security protocols are pathetic. He doesn’t do anything other than render the computers completely useless; no note or secret message left behind to identify who hacked the machines. But the intrusion into the personal laptop and work desktop for two people so close to the Holmes’s family should at least spark interest into his infuriating brothers. Or get them to call him; he was the technological genius of the family. 

But no, it doesn’t work. Sherlock just buys John a new laptop (his glee suggests that he had wanted to for quite some time; he’s quite smitten, it seems). Mycroft just sends his assistant – Tessa? Athena? Margaret? – to fix Lestrade’s. It is exasperating. The minions at Q branch can feel his anger and not one approaches him for days. Except 007. But he is silent for once, so Q takes the small victory as it is. 

The next thing he tries is hacking their phones. He sends gibberish messages to Watson and fake emergencies and crimes to Lestrade. It is quite humorous to see his brothers running around to different parts of London on false cases, with no idea what is going on. He makes sure to send them to a bakery, to tease Mycroft.  
Unfortunately, Mycroft just gets the Yard a new phone and security system, and Sherlock smashed John’s phone in pure frustration. Honestly, it’s like Quentin doesn’t even cross their minds in the list of probable causes. It’s disappointing. 

Q is at a loss. Nothing is working. Mycroft and Sherlock refuse to call him and the poor men he has been harassing are constantly on edge. Q is so consumed with his failed plans he doesn’t even register 007 entering his office until he is so close Q can smell his aftershave. It’s Italian, the cocky bastard. 

“What has our Quartermaster so stumped?” Bond quirks an eyebrow at him, “Has someone stolen your tea?”

“Stuff it, 007. It’s nothing of your concern,” Q closes his laptop with a huff and rubs his eyes under his glasses. Bond furrows his brows and actually looks confused by Q’s annoyance.

“Do you need me to kill someone?” Bond starts, leaning over Q’s desk to get impossibly closer, hands splayed out over stacks of paperwork, “or torture anyone, at least? I know how you get without your tea.”

“It’s fine, Bond. Drop it,” Q grits out, voice cold and angry.

Bond looks openly surprised. It’s a testament to how frustrated Q is that he can’t even control his emotions. Years of practice with Sherlock fly out the window when his family is involved. Bond looks at him, eyes narrowed, with a stare that is not unlike his brothers’ scrutiny, and finally nods in acceptance.

Q sits back in his chair, eyes closed and glassed off. He hears bond straighten and walk to the door. He is about to lose himself in his thoughts when Bond pauses in the doorway.

“You could always break into the bastard’s house and steal your tea back.”

The Quartermaster’s eyes snap open, but Bond has already disappeared, the blurry door swinging closed like a slap in the face.

Why didn’t he think of that sooner?

\---------------

Breaking into Sherlock’s home isn’t all that hard. Since he was constantly running around, solving cases with the good doctor at his heels, Q had his choice of time. It also helped that he could control the CCTV cameras around the areas as well. Being the Quartermaster had its perks. And charming sweet Ms. Hudson was easy as well—dropping words like “long lost brother” and “surprise visit” was all that was needed to make his way into the small apartment and keep Ms. Hudson silent.

Q sits on the couch with plain view of both the door and the windows (his agents are rubbing off on him, he is aware) and picks up the closest book. It’s a dictionary. The last time he read one was when Mycroft challenged him to a spelling contest when he was eight. Mycroft lost.

Three hours pass, and Q is deep in the K’s when he hears the bottom door open and the smooth baritone of his brother float up the stairs. It stops abruptly, and suddenly there is a tremendous racket as Sherlock races up the stairs and throws open the door. Watson is not far behind, gun drawn.

Sherlock has a completely startled look on his face as he sees Q. It’s enough to send Q into fits of laughter, doubling over the dictionary in his lap. The poor army doctor looks completely lost, but the steel in his grip is what causes Q to control his chuckles. 

“I haven’t seen you look so startled since Mycroft told you I was better at math,” Q stands up, holding out a hand to Watson, “Pleasure to meet you officially, Dr. Watson. I’m Q. Sherlock’s brother.”

Sherlock still looks completely shell shocked, and Watson’s jaw drops to match his expression, “There’s another one? Sherlock! You can’t just keep a brother hidden!”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. There are only three of us,” Q smiles, “I’m the youngest and the least insane, if you’re curious.”

“What are you doing here, Quentin?” Sherlock quips, composure mostly regained, but eyes still surprised, “I thought you disapproved of house calls?”

“Well, when you refuse to mention me to your partner, I was offended. So I tried to get your attention. Unfortunately, you’re too thick to see that I was the one hacking Doctor Watson’s computer and phone. Although, who else would? Really Sherlock, pay attention,” Q rolled his eyes. 

Watson finally puts the gun away, although give Q a sideways glance, “Wait, are you saying the reason both my phone and laptop are ruined is you? Bloody Holmes. I’m making tea.”

“Two sugars please!” Q calls, sitting back down on the couch and looking at his brother, “Care for a game for a game of Scrabble?”

\-------------

Getting into Lestrade’s house is little more complicated. Since his recent divorce, he has been staying in a guest room at Mycroft’s manor. And Mycroft is a little paranoid when it comes to things like security. However, Q didn’t become the best in the business for nothing. 

Hacking through his eldest brother’s security measures takes some time, but soon enough he is sneaking in through the back door of the house, and quietly enters the kitchen with no one even looking twice at him. He brews himself a pot of tea and a pot of coffee sits perking on the strove when he hears his brother and the Detective Inspector entering the house. The smell of Earl Grey and coffee is what draws them both to the kitchen, and Mycroft, the bloody bastard, doesn’t even look startled. 

“Sherlock?” Lestrade exclaims, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not Sherlock, and I’m here to introduce myself to you, Detective,” Q answers simply, “The coffee is almost done.”

“I’m surprised it took you this long, Quentin,” Mycroft raises an eyebrow, “and I’m offended that you went to Sherlock first.”

“Well, he was always the better brother, Myc,” Q smirks, “and I’m offended you didn’t call me when there was computer trouble down at the Yard.”

Mycroft scowls, but Lestrade finally recovers enough to interrupt, “You’re a Holmes? Bloody Hell, I need a drink.”

Q produces a bottle of whiskey from under the table and pours him a glass, “I thought you would never ask.”

\--------------

When Q goes to work the next day, he is surprised to find a box of tea on his desk. It’s Earl Grey, his favorite. There is nothing with it, but a post it note with a J on it. Q smiles.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story in this fandom. This is also the first in a hopefully interesting series about Q and Bond. Comments and critiques are appreciated. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story.


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